


The Forgotten Jedi

by KyleDLarson



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25739890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyleDLarson/pseuds/KyleDLarson
Summary: Rey fought to defend her home but watched the First Order destroy it. Now, Kylo Ren meets her for the first time....Necromancer-esque Reylo Reverse Anidala.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6





	The Forgotten Jedi

Rey felt the heat, even in the middle of the bay, from the flames she viewed through the porthole of her cramped cell aboard her captors ship. The flames consumed the last city standing of her homeland, making her the last survivor of Jakku, a realm which stood since the earliest days of the world. Rey had been its last defender and because of this, the general leading the scourge ordered she be kept alive.  
The First Order always kept a witness.

Her heart felt cold, her body and mind numb to the new reality which continued to unfold at a shocking pace. The First Order scourge came fast and spared none when it arrived on Jakku. The First Order were not occupiers, they burned everything in their wake as they pressed from one side of the realm to the other. Most of the Jakku people were slaughtered under First Order swords, save a small portion who were shipped back to their mainland or sold to slavers. Jakku was not the first realm to fall to the First Order and it would not be the last. 

The laughter from above deck rumbled through the gaps between the wood planks composing the short ceiling in Rey’s cell. The only light came from the porthole, the hellish red glow of Jakku’s capital city as it collapsed within the flames. Only minutes ago, the collective screams of those who’d managed to hide in the shadows but trapped in the inferno filled the air. Now, there was only the constant sloshing of waves and the drunken laughter of the First Order soldiers, celebrating their victory. Jakku became a pyre as Rey let the image sear her mind’s eye.

Rey was alone. She thought of her last look at the friends she fought with to hold Jakku. They’d been lined up in front of her and cut down, one-by-one by an unnamed general who seemed well rehearsed in execution. He’d assured her the quick deaths granted to her friends would not be given to her if she continued to resist. Rey fought until the end but the First Order numbers overwhelmed her sword and those of her friends in Jade Squad – once the elite protectors and law enforcers of Jakku. Once their captain, Rey sat reduced to a prisoner in a cramped, pitch black cell bound by chains. 

A series of loud thumps sounded above her. It sounded as if a brawl had broken out, with obscenities and cheers making a cacophonous and unmistakable reverberations of the blood lust in the First Order ranks. Rey mused for a moment that maybe the First Order would all kill each other. Rey was no stranger to the peculiar thirst warriors acquired after a mass killing, of which the First Order had been on for weeks straight as they torched the Jakku desert, turning it to obsidian. Rey had been on the victorious side of many battles and had to subdue many younger, aggressive soldiers who’d disregarded their humanity, blindly feeding the bloodlust of putting their swords through as many enemies as possible. Once the darkness required for killing in a soldier’s mind opened up it was very hard to subdue it.

Rey witnessed some of the most brutal, drunken brawls in her own encampments, usually after sweeping victories from the Jade Squad or other companies she’d passed between in the Jakku Army. The First Order were no different.

The touch of cold steel from the chains binding her wrist and ankles gave an unfortunate prelude to the night ahead of her. Soon, they’d be beyond the Bay of Camor and the frozen winds of the sea would be upon her. The season sat between the autumn and winter, turning the mist of the waves cold as it floated into Rey's cell. The red flames consuming Jakku grew smaller and smaller, as the wind picked up and pushed the First Order flotilla further out into the bay. Rey withdrew from her view of the porthole and sunk into the darkness. She prepared for the long, cold night ahead of her.

The door beyond her cell suddenly opened and a torch-bearing figure entered. Rey judged from the quiet she was the only prisoner and the light from the torch confirmed it. The figure holding the torch lit her sword resting against the wall while fully illuminating the rest of the empty cells. In addition to the new light, the hooded figure lit a hearth in the center of the brig, the heat immediately apparent. Clothed in a black robe with crimson red trim, as close to the hue of blood as anything she’d seen. Rey couldn’t see the face under the hood. He turned and seemed to examine Imani as she stood, facing him. She wanted badly to be able to keep her face composed but she could feel the residue of dried tears she’d shed in silence crunching as her face grimaced in a look reserved for those she would take her sword to.

When the figure removed his hood, Rey realized she'd seen him before. The man who’d killed her friends. The man who commanded the slaughter of Jakku. The man who ordered her shackled and brought aboard the First Order flotilla under the threat of torture. The man who fought with a fury in battle she’d never seen. At the frontlines of First Order ranks, the man carried himself with confidence and silence, but here with just the two of them he looked uncertain and uneasy.

“Rey, Captain of the Jade Squad, Elite Knight of the Seventeenth Royal Division, and recipient of the King’s Defender Trophy,” he said. As the words came from him he looked beyond her, to the porthole with a glimmer of the flames he’d left in his wake. “I’ve heard of you.”

The recitation echoed in Rey’s head, as silence fell between them again. In a matter of hours, those titles were reduced to nothing with the First Order's destruction, but they never meant much more to her than that. They weren’t her titles, they were scraps thrown from a greedy king who thought they’d provide a mask of nobility over the terrible deeds he ordered her to do. At a young age the king found her and her abilities with a blade, taught to her by a grandmother who’d grown to frail to defend the child from those who would exploit her. When the king found her, the parents she thought would protect her were too easily persuaded with the promise of gold and the guarantee of a place in Jakku’s high society to protect her.

Rey didn’t respond. In the light, Rey could see the different stains of blood covering the fabric of her tunic. The First Order commandeered her armor, but the sacred tunic of the Jade Squad, passed down between centuries of captains, carried the blood of her friends. 

“I am Chief Regent Kylo Ren.”

Kylo Ren. Rey heard of him, too. 

Little was known about the First Order, other than the stories she’d heard from traders and mercenaries. Imani didn’t waste her time trying to remember what context she’d heard the name. The spectacle she’d seen earlier told her all she needed to know about him. Kylo fought with the same brutality and ruthlessness with which he commanded. Kylo wore the crest of the First Order on his red robe. A black pike, with teeth like a jagged nightmare of swords – a sight that made any ruler tremble when ships approached waving its banner. 

“Rey. I watched you compete once, at the Tournament of Niima. There are few with the sword skills you possess. Who trained you? Your line were not known through Jakku as warriors until you.” His voice absent of curiosity, letting Rey know this would be an interrogation. The fate of Badun prisoners was not known to be a hopeful one throughout the land of Jakku. There had been no time to consider escape and now she sat in a cage at the mercy of the most ruthless army in the history of Jakku. 

She tried to hide the shock she felt from hearing a stranger recount one of the awful tournaments the king forced her and other members of the squad to fight in. The grief still she felt for a grandmother who taught her strength but died a slow, merciless death by fever. All Rey knew about her family was they descended from a line of early Jakku founders and the swordplay she’d inherited was from their earliest ancestors. The early stories of her family had been lost to history.

“If you are nervous to answer, let me assure you the First Order does not persecute those who are touched by such…gifts. Your skills will only be rewarded by the Supreme Leader. You see…the Supreme Leader is good. The Supreme Leader gives us mercy.”

The mantra of the First Order, one Rey and everyone else whoever faced their forces heard chanted in unison like thunder after each victory.  
Rey didn’t answer as Kylo continued to look at her expectedly.

“There is no need for these torches to be lit and for this hearth to burn. This brig only recently became empty in the past days after it’s former occupants froze to death. Your strength is known across the seas, Rey, but it will not keep you through the night. You will answer me or you can return to the darkness and the cold.”

Rey didn’t doubt Kylo. A gust of the frozen wind came through her porthole. It cut through the heat the hearth provided and Imani realized even with the added heat it would still be a struggle to stay warm in her cell. Her silence was not defiance, she just didn’t have the words. The screams of her friends and her people still ricocheted through her mind.

“My grandmother trained me, until I was ten, then King Zuvio recruited me to apprentice with the Jade Squad. I’ve been fighting with a sword for as long as I could carry one.” Rey simply put the words out into the air, her eyes still fixed on the hearth burning, its flames recalling the screams of every poor soul trapped in the city burning just beyond the horizon they’d crossed.

Any response pleased Kylo. This is what Kylo did, take the strongest from each victory and make them his generals. As Rey had seen him fighting on the battlefield, he’d seen her. She’d taken out hundreds of First Order soldiers all by herself. The only way he got her to lay down her sword was threat of torture to her parents, two soft nobles his Jakku informants brought to the impromptu gallows. King Zuvio's life hadn’t meant much, as she’d stayed back and allowed him to be maimed by their worst interrogators for all the city to see. But when he brought out her parents and other members of her Jade Squad, Rey laid down her sword and allowed herself to be placed in shackles. 

Mercy in the First Order is a quick death, which is what they were given. Kylo looked away when the swords of his guard fell. He always looked away. So many times he wished he’d been able to cover his ears at the screams of the civilians watching the family members who fought for them be so quickly dispatched in such an undignified way. It reminded him of the person he used to be, before Snoke found him, before he was taken and put in a cell much like the one Rey stood in now. Those screams always took him back there but they never came from Rey, nor the rest of the Jade Squad. Rey only watched the First Order executioners drop the blade, saving her tears for the moment her captors couldn’t see. They’d already bested her enough times, she didn’t need to give them another victory.

He’d seen Rey break for a moment when the sword fell on her family and her friends. Rey allowed herself those moments and then put her armor back on, with a blank face and as few words as possible.

“You’ve lost a great deal today, Rey,” Kylo said, changing the subject. The time to discuss her family lineage would come later. “You’ve seen violence. You’ve seen death. I’m not here to taunt you or punish you. You may not believe this now, but I am your ally.”

Rey didn’t respond. There was room for little else in her mind than grief and uncertainty. She’d never been a prisoner and the trappings of her bondage began to peel back the layers of denial in her mind that helped her stay calm about her situation. At any moment, she could be killed. As long as she sat in chains behind this cage, her life belonged to the First Order. Her fate was bound to the monsters who’d taken everything from her.

“I’ve seen violence. I’ve seen death,” Rey said, as her thoughts began to settle and she began to see the act of Kylo. He would try to act like her ally, but she knew what that meant. She’d been an interrogator before. She’d sat where Kylo sat –– trying to gain a prisoner’s trust. The only reasons to show a prisoner the kindness of a warm hearth and empathetic words is because you need something from them. It works because you can take it away at any moment and show them how terrible you can treat them.

“Jakku was doomed the moment the First Order set sail, decades ago, to take Jakku for their gods. The Supreme Leader means to conquer the world,” Kylo said. 

'Their' gods. Rey noted Kylo's’ inflection, one of doubt.

“Jakku declared itself a realm of peace, after the last war, five years ago. Your people attacked and wiped out a peaceful nation, as you’ve done to many peaceful nations and realms. You speak your words well, chief regent, but don’t pretend I’m not locked in a cage and those you serve are not butchers,” Rey said. 

“A realm with one of the bloodiest histories of in the world does not simply get to decide one day they no longer wish to fight wars. I wonder, Rey, if the people on the other end of your sword and the swords of the Jade Squad considered you conquerors. The people of Carbon Ridge, the Goazan, and the Kelvin...what do you think they feel about the peaceful disposition your king decided suited him one day simply because he had a vision?”

The day of peaceful reformation came after a history of violence. The Jakku had not been so different from the First Order, and Rey knew the history better than most. She’d risen in the ranks due to her service in the Seventeenth Royal Division. She rose from promising recruit to elite knight in the course of a few campaigns, against the trio of defeated realms Kylo referenced.

Those screams still haunted Reyi, only she’d become accustomed to them over the years. She was thirteen when she fought those battles, put down soldiers twice her age, and executed children who could’ve been her schoolmates. For her role, she’d moved up in the ranks, and by the time the king called for peace and the end of Indonian conquest, Rey found herself a general and a top advisor to the king.  
“We never led a scourge. Not even the tree sap survives a First Orderinvasion,”Rey said.

“The First Order want no story told in the world except theirs. We don’t intend to rewrite history, we intend to make it anew. For our phoenix to rise we must turn greatness to ashes first,” Kylo said.

“Why are you here?” Rey said. The elusiveness of Kylo's words grew tiring for her. Shock began to wear off and the weight of the chains, the ache in her muscles, and the pit of anxiety began to take hold of her. When she thought of her situation, a death by frost through the night sounded like a decent alternative to whatever this interrogator had to say. Rey knew the game he played, getting her to lower her guard with trust so he could extract whatever information out of her or make whatever awful act he intended to carry out on her even more heinous because she’d let her guard down.

“I’m here because of you, Rey,” Kylo said. His face rose with a pleasant smile and he strode slowly to a large chest near the hearth. He opened it and reached in, slowly pulling out Rey’s sword. He leaned it up by the hilt against the wall and the tip balanced on the floor. Rey watched him examine the blade as he stepped away from it.

The sword was the only thing familiar Rey had and at its sight, she desperately wished to hold it. Rey didn’t even want to use it for escape or to get retribution for the death of her friends. She just wanted a piece of her the life she’d just been robbed of back. Rey’s sword was more than a possession, it was a part of her.

Another loud crash came from above, this time with an even louder bellow of laughter and screaming. Some of the shouts were cries of pain from whoever was losing the brawl. She watched Kylo aim an irritated look at the noise above, as if he’d been interrupted in the middle of an important speech.

“The First Order have assembled the most efficient and deadly army in the history of the world, but you wouldn’t know if after a few mugs of ale. Buffoons,” Kylo said. “Your sword is…easily one of the finest blades I’ve seen, and I’ve met all the great warriors.”

“Please just kill me,” Rey said. “I’m not interested in what you think of my sword, or my family, or my country you and your people just obliterated. You’re here to ask questions. I’ve been standing on the other side of a cage like you are now. I’m not going to help you and if you want to put out the torches and that hearth and leave me to die in the cold then you are most welcome to. I am not interested in being kept as an artifact or token of Jakku. You laid waste to everything and everyone I cared about there. I would rather join them in the darkness of oblivion.” 

Anger, sadness, and grief underwrote Rey’s words but defeat most prominent. Rey knew she’d lost and didn’t want this victory dance or interrogation to go on longer than it had to. If that meant freezing to death overnight she’d take it over one more vague question from Kylo.

“There it is,” Kylo said. Another warm smile, as if Rey responded exactly as he hoped she would. 

“I don't believe in wasting good air to decipher whatever it is you want to get out of me. Why don’t you go drink some ale and celebrate with your people? Just let me die in the cold.”

“They are not my people,” Kylo said. The angry, quick departure of the mock web of security Kylo had been trying to build vanished quickly and it surprised Rey. Slowly, Kylo reached into his pocket and pulled out a single key, holding it and then gently placing it on the floor, just out of reach from Rey’s cell.

Rey knew this game, too. Give the captive false hope. Let them believe there is a possibility of escape if they cooperate. Kylo didn’t need to tell her the key would unlock her cell. 

“If I’m truly the last survivor of Jakku, I won’t die in the bowels of cold First Order ship begging for my life or the key to my cell. I’ve broken prisoners before, too. Your games are the ones I played with them, too. You’re not special,” Rey said.

Kylo bent down slowly and picked up the key. Every move slow and deliberate, Rey watched him move toward her cell and unlock the door. Once the deadbolt cleared the chamber, the door naturally swayed open. Kylo stepped back and motioned for Imani to step out.

Another game. If it was a game, Rey gave Kylo credit. She never would’ve gone so far as to open the cell of a prisoner as deadly as herself. Maybe for a dignitary to give them some small comfort of privilege –– privacy in relief or a warm meal at a proper table instead of cold scraps off the floor –– but never a trained soldier. Kylo knew how skilled she was. The second the door came open, Kylo put his life at risk and he hadn’t even drawn his sword. Though her ankles and hands were chained, she’d watched Kylo fight and felt confident she could take him on.

For a few seconds, they just stared at each other. Rey fixed her eyes on Kylo, studying him, taking in everything she could in the few seconds before he’d no doubt start speaking again. The hilt of his sword was close enough to his right hand, which she remembered watching him fight with, which would make it difficult to get to her blade before he drew his. She could tell he tried to make his right arm look relaxed, but the way he curled his fingers told her he’d be ready to draw if she tried to strangle him with her chains, which was her first thought.

Kylo beckoned Rey to step out of the cell but she remained, still trying to decide what to do.

“Tonight, you have something to prove, Rey. Those soldiers, up top, were the same ones who executed your family, friends, and squad,” Kylo said. He stepped forward quickly, grabbed the chain between the shackles binding her wrists together and unlocked them before she could object, stepping away quickly. Rey pulled herself away from him, putting herself against the wall of her cell. The speed with which he was able to unshackle her made Rey reconsider how quickly she’d need to get to her sword. 

Kylo knew his own speed. He thought he knew everything about her and he wasn’t afraid. 

“I offer you their lives,” Kylo said. 

Rey shook her wrists to release the blood flow back into her joints. She looked down at the shackles around her ankles, waiting for Kylo to finish whatever game he was surely playing. The greater the hope the more bottomless the despair once it’s extinguished. Rey felt sure this was his plan. 

“They are some of my finest soldiers, a general is even among them. Take your vengeance, make it is slow as you want, and then you can take your sword back. You decide your own fate, Rey,” Kylo said. 

Rey looked again to her shackled ankles. Though she didn’t doubt her ability to kill a few dozen drunk, tired soldiers who’d already done half the work for her in the ruckus she’d heard above her cell she could see what Kylo was doing. He’d made the mistake of assuming she lived to command a squad or an army like most the commanders she’d encountered and ones he’d probably lured into the First Order ranks with the same offer. Revenge and power, playing to the basest of raw emotions he no doubt assumed the pendulum of her soul swung between. The chained, loosened shackles once binding her hands lay at her feet. They wouldn’t make a great weapon against someone like Kylo but they would have to do.

“Suppose I should start with you,” Rey said.

Kylo realized he’d made a mistake the instant her strength came back to her. The cold, fear, and shock vanished and Rey launched herself over Kylo. He quickly ran and put himself between her and her sword. It didn’t matter, as Rey used the iron shackles like a mace, whistling through the air. Kylo drew his sword and barely deflected her first blow.

Even bound by the ankles, Rey moved with a speed and grace he’d never seen in another fighter. He cursed himself as he parried her attacks. He’d assumed she was already broken like the rest but something had been bottled up inside her. Now she’d opened it and it was coming for him.  
Rey looked into his eyes, unchanged even as she closely bested him with nothing more than shackles. She had new life with the grief, anger, and sadness channeled into clean, precise technique which far outmatched Kylo. Rey thought he had to already realize she’d be able to beat him but he wouldn’t back down. She saw a bit of herself in him for a moment, just a glance of a face she remembered in her own reflections. A face so tired of carrying out death in the name of a thankless king. As she’d served her king, he served the Supreme Leader. But there was something else she detected from him, a fear – Rey could tell he had a secret. 

Rey also saw what she could become if she joined the First Order. They seemed to be unstoppable and joining them was an apparent option. Kylo not only offered revenge, he offered survival on the winning side. Prominence, even. In the same way she saw parts of her past self in him she now felt like she saw what she’d become within the ranks of the First Order. Perhaps Kylo had been just a person once who was forced to fight, just as she had, because of their natural skill with a blade. Rey knew she could beat him but she’d have to fight for it. Kylo wouldn’t go down easy.  
Then darkness took him as his parry failed and a shackle cracked his skull. The last thing he felt was the warmth of blood. Rey heard the crack and watched his body fall. She knew she shouldn’t waste time checking to see if he was alive, so she grabbed her sword, cut the chain between the shackles on her ankles, and turned to Kylo's lifeless body. Rey raised her blade, examining his exposed neck, the rest of his body covered in armor. She’d make it a quick kill.

Then she remembered the words of her grandmother. All the skills she’d been taught but at the express direction they’d never be used for murder.

Taking life from those who cannot defend is murder, Rey. Never forget that. You are a warrior, not a monster.

If she killed Kylo, put the blade through his back, she’d be a monster. He was likely already dead or about to be put to death by whomever he answered to in the First Order for what she was about to do to his ship. The plan formulated fast but she would heed the words of her grandma and let fate decide what to do with Kylo. For now, she’d be content to take her sword to those with their own ready to meet it.

Many already made her a murderer, she didn’t need to add cold-blooded to the mix. She’d save her sword for those who could still stand.

When Rey came topside she took a few moments to survey the First Order ship, which she realized was part of a massive flotilla. She’d seen it when the First Order arrived, like a giant squid surfacing, its tentacles composed of hundreds of ships tethered together composing something of a floating city. She followed the torches and lit cabin windows with her eyes. They all led to the center of the flotilla where a massive fortress shot into the air. 

Whatever this monstrosity was, Rey knew she couldn’t bring it down tonight. Maybe someday. A resignation came over her and she feared this sight would be the new and last era of her planet. No realm had ever assembled a navy and army like this. She could tell the construction was crude but with numbers and ammunition like this it didn’t matter. The First Order gobbled up resources of the realms it came to just as quickly as it did the people. Rey could see the silhouette of several smoke stacks lining the perimeter of the flotilla. Exhaust from the foundries no doubt reducing the ore and rock from Jakku into new weapons which would carry the First Order to victory in the next realm.

Then a large thunderclap echoed in the distance. Suddenly, the drunken shouts and brawls in Rey’s proximity stopped. Any bustle making a noise on the rest of the flotilla stopped. The cabin lights and torches all went out. Complete darkness, save the flecked reflection of stars off the cold waves around them, followed by complete silence. She could still make out some shadows of the two-dozen or so soldiers on the deck of this ship, only they knelt with their heads raised, looking to the sky.

The ritual had begun.

Thunder came overhead again, only this time it shook all the ships. Rey gasped and crouched, making sure unpredictable footing wouldn’t be what gave her away. After the thunder ended, an storm of lightning lit up the entire sky. Brighter than the sun, an blue glare created a flickering, nightmare illumination over the flotilla. The brightness only lasted for moments, as the lightning crawled across the horizon, suddenly stopping over the small glimmer Rey knew was Jakku. 

The number of bolts from the sky doubled and their glare. Rey looked around at the First Order crew, who slowly stood in pairs, not taking their eyes off the lightning in the horizon. The drunken foolery seemed to be over, whatever this sight was sobered them up. Rey watched the lightning continue to increase and realized the First Order flotilla still moved away from Jakku. Whatever she was seeing there wasn’t anyway she’d figure out what it was and she had an escape to make.

As the First Order crew were distracted, Rey spotted a sleeker, smaller vessel tethered not far from where she stood. Rey realized the whole flotilla was essentially just made of several ships with rickety bridges drawn between them, binding them together while the fortress in the center of the ship guided them. The ship was barely lit by torches marking the bridge. The thought of putting a blade into each of the drunken monsters on the deck in front of her, who resumed their drinking and fighting as soon as the lightning disappeared, sounded appealing.  
Then she felt the tip of a blade press against her back and knew she was going to have to fight.

“Up,” Kylo whispered. She could feel the tip of Kylo's blade pressed against her back. Rey stood slowly. The barrels she’d hid behind to observe the crew still blocked them, not that any would notice with their party back in full-swing.

“This is your last chance. I’ll ask you and your answer depends on whether I push this sword through your back or––”

Rey broke off and ran as fast as she could, leaping into the air and landing atop the barrel. Her sword drawn, she looked down at Kylo, who stood back staring at her angrily. Behind her, the noise of the soldiers died down and she turned her head to see them in her periphery, staring up at her, whispering amongst themselves who she was.

Kylo glared at her but she detected a strange sadness in his dark eyes, only highlighted by the flickering of torches around them. Rey considered what awaited her if she managed to escape the flotilla. The ship she’d eye would surely be faster than the flotilla and if she could take out Kylo and the rest of the crew before other First Order noticed, dark would provide cover for her escape. But what then? If she escaped the First Order today she’d only end up facing them again. Jakku was one of the world’s last hope at stopping the First Order. The only remaining realms with armies strong enough to stand-up to the First Order were D'Qar and Yavin. But the two mighty realms warred amongst themselves at the border they shared in the D'Qar Mountains, as the First Order waited to pick off the winner. In a way, Jakku may have been the last hope.

The world would soon bend to the First Order.

Could she join the First Order? She’d be able to climb the ranks quickly, of that much she was sure. Probably surpass Kylo in a few months. But Rey knew she could never fight for another empire. She had enough blood on her hands from carrying out a kings own desires for conquest of the nearby territories. With this ship she’d be free. Rey would have her own life, while on the run from the First Order, but she’d be no different than anyone else in the world. At least she’d be able to have a few years of life to herself.

As she considered it, Kylo leapt into the air, landing on the barrel adjacent her. All the soldiers watching tossed their mugs of ale and drew their swords, the sound of metal cutting the air. They said nothing but Rey realized they weren’t as drunk as she’d considered. She knew she’d still be able to fight through them and just hoped Kylo wouldn’t wear her down too much. She’d have to keep him contained and deal with him before the rest of them. But then she realized that’s what he expected her to do. 

So Rey leapt again, her sword drawn, and hurled herself toward the soldiers landing just in front of them. She brought her blade down and slashed at the nearest soldier, swiping his blade away and putting her’s through his chest. Then she repeated the same move again, dozens of times, while keeping her eye trained on Kylo, who watched calmly. The soldiers were no match for Rey. She moved like a wolf between them, taking them down one by one, each one not realizing her blade was upon them until it was too late. 

The last group of them came upon her and she cut through them again, but didn’t move quick enough to stop the last one who retrieved a bull’s horn from their side and brought it to their lips. Before she could bring her sword to them they got off one blow, an alarm which pierced through the silence of night. The blade took their head and as the thud of it passed vibrations to Rey’s feet, she looked up at Kylo as they could both hear an echo of other battle horns passing on the call. Soon, the small vibrations of a head rolling on the deck were replaced by the thousands of guards around the flotilla ceasing their celebrations and preparing to quell the intruder in their midst.

“I will grant you a quick death. That is the extent of my mercy, Rey. That is the extent of the Supreme Leader’s mercy,” Kylo said, looking down on her, the flames reflecting off his face. While the expression remained composed she could see his dark eyes were wild. She judged the tight grip on his hilt. He really thought he could beat her.

So Rey attacked. Kylo dodged her as she leapt for him, moving an impossible distance in the air as if she could fly. He’d seen her acrobatic abilities during their campaign through Jakku but it had always been at a distance. The wind of her slash at him whistled in his ear, missing him as he barely managed to step aside. Whether it was a miscalculation on her part or luck on his, if Kylo hadn’t stepped aside her blade would have split him in half. 

The ritual of recruitment often led to these types of confrontations. Kylo needed officers and commanders to sharpen the First Order infantry which mainly composed itself of brutes the Supreme Leader culled from the most distant corners of the planet. It was his job to search for the gems amongst the ashes left behind in each realm they brought down. Any illusions Kylo had about nobility was often shattered as the survivors he offered positions to in the First Order usually accepted them without hesitation. Once heroes of their realm, the same as Rey, these survivors so quick to turned their back on what they honored before. They were often sent to the frontlines by Kylo. He had little interest in trusting those so quick to shift loyalty.

It was the ones who defied him and fought back who became Kylo’s best commanders. They realized, like him, if they were to survive the terrible world they would need to fight with the First Order. Rey was the most skilled of any he’d seen but he had no doubt when the rest of the First Order swords arrived she’d begrudgingly join them. The tales he’d heard of her skills in ports were not exaggerated. Kylo knew he wouldn’t best her and it would only be the First Order numbers which would subdue her. Kylo also counted on losing many more soldiers this evening to her sword.

They had not yet crossed swords, only continuing to dodge each blow and put distance between them, leaping from the barrels to the deck of the ship. Distant shouting and the vibrations of soldiers quickly making their way toward the duel distracted Rey for a moment but it was enough for Kylo. He brought his blade down and slashed at her wrist. He didn’t intend to take her arm, just a cut to rattle her. Rey moved but the tip of his blade still nicked her exposed forearm. The cut bled but Rey didn’t cry out. She knew Kylo counted on her to get sloppy while anticipating the numbers approaching and the blood running down her arm.

Rey leapt back and found her footing. She didn’t move, only raising her sword in a defensive posture and locking eyes with Kylo once again. Rey didn’t have a peer or an advisor in the First Order ranks. He either took orders or gave them. The rank was both a distinguished and lonely one. Rey’s face looked calm until he locked eyes with her. Her eyes glowed with a ferocity in her glare, reducing him to a recruiter for the First Order, not the one who would command her. If he could convince her to join the First Order she’d be their deadliest soldier, even more skilled than the elite Praetorian Guards. 

Chills from the sea blew up in a gust, the cold stabbing both of them as perspiration turned to tiny blades on the surface of their skin. Kylo tried to hide the shivered grip on his sword. When Rey saw this she charged. The dance was over. The contest needed a winner. She’d leave everything in this duel, the deciding one of whether she lived a free life in what was left of the world or if she died atop the monster which would consume it. 

Kylo stepped forward, drawing his sword, and ran to meet her. Each of them, with every instinct they’d sharpened over the years, raised their blades and moved in for the kill. Neither of them could’ve imagined what happened next and even more so….what it would mean for each of them. 

Before the screaming of their blades crash could echo across the deck, a brilliant flash blinded them from the point of contact. They each began to pull away and then a powerful force, like an explosion without flame or fire, lifted them both from the deck of the ship. The wood planks shattered into fibers and the ship was cut in two, water shooting up through the exposure. 

In an instant, they closed their eyes and then opening them to something else, somewhere else.

Rey and Kylo stood next to one another, with the daylight blinding them. The splintering of the hull replaced by nothing but wind and waves. Their swords, they both stepped back, exchanging defensive postures. Each of them looked down in confusion, their eyes winced as the bright sunlight stabbed into their retinae. Imani recovered her vision quicker than Jamas. They locked eyes for a few moments then began to scan their surroundings. 

They were on a beach, on a peninsula foreign to both of them. Behind them, a beautiful stone structure, carved in elegance neither of them had ever seen. The world itself looked different, the air felt lighter, and the sight of the water in front of them let them know this was a different world.

Then the sound of waves crashing and a sunrise over a blue sky. 

A man clad in a brown robe, with a pony-tail draping down his back held the hand of a women clad in a white, lattice dress, and as they looked on, he kissed her tenderly in the ceremony of matrimony.

As they looked on, they both heard voices speaking to them. Distressed voices, of the same pair and another, and a darkness surrounded them. 

"You're a good person, don't do this!"

"Luke! Leia!"

"You were my brother, Anakin! I loved you!"

"Don't look back...don't look back"

"Much fear I sense in you."

"I truly, deeply love you, and before we die, I want you to know."

The vision became more vivid for both Rey and Ben. Every word they heard, every vision they saw struck their core. The man burned alive, the woman dying, and the faceless voice passing into exile. While it hit Rey just as hard, Ben knew the faces and knew the what brought them back to him.

The Force. It returned. It called to him, and now it called to Rey.

"Ben...I'm sorry..."

He heard his uncle.

"Come home, son. We miss you."

He heard his mother and father.

"And when it mattered I was stronger than Luke Skywalker!"

His own voice filled both he and Rey's head.

They returned to the terrible darkness of the First Order flotilla.

Rey reacted quickly, pushing aside the blast of adrenaline and shock she could feel spreading through her body, using the skills learned to move her body through the air. She rolled herself into a back flip and looked down. She was right where she needed to be, above the small skiff she’d been eyeing. The fall down to the deck would kill her, though, so she eyed the mast. In seconds, she extended her grip and snatched up a loose rope hanging from the mast. Rey was quick to lift her body with the grip, ensuring she didn’t dislocate her shoulder. Once the violent dangling calmed,Rey let go and landed on the deck. 

She looked around for Kylo, who’d been standing next to her seconds ago. He was nowhere, so she pushed forward, putting aside the questions of what had just happened. What had they just seen? Why did those people look so familiar? Magic? Rey knew that, but she’d never touched it. There wasn’t time for her to consider any questions. This would be her only chance to escape.

With all her speed, Rey cut the mooring ropes and pushed the small ship off. The soldiers had arrived at the ship she’d been on, their torches lighting the scene. Rey looked for a moment and saw the wreckage, one hull cut in two, now each end capsized and sinking slowly into the Scarlet Sea. Hundreds of soldiers quickly lined the decks, staring down at the wreckage in silence. The firelight of their torches didn’t reach Rey’s new ship, so she took wheel and turned the sail into the wind. A gust caught her sail and the ship shot out into the sea.

If she could put some distance between her and the flotilla before the soldiers noticed it’s likely she wouldn't be missed for hours. 

“There!” 

Kylo’s unmistakable voice screamed out in the darkness. His voice, raw with rage, repeated the same word over and over, until the torch light grew brighter and caught up with Imani.

“Send out all ships! After her!”

The First Order battle cries erupted and the soldiers scattered toward their respective ships. Rey shook her head in disgust. They wouldn’t be able to catch her. She looked to Kylo, who stood on the deck of the flotilla, holding a single torch. Rey’s vision had always been unnaturally gifted. She could see for great distances and in difficult light. 

Kylo’s rage cooled. He just looked lost and he wore the same face she’d seen earlier, one that reminded Rey of herself. Kylo knew Rey had escaped and she’d be able to vanish in the darkness. The wind picked up and her new ship raced out to the sea. Rey turned and saw Kylo toss the torch into the sea. He remained standing there, as if he stared back at her, about to watch her disappear in the horizon. Rey didn’t take her eyes off him until the flotilla was beyond her vision, then she turned to the darkness. For a moment, she wondered who Kylo had been before the First Order took him.

The blue lightning bolts still lit up the sky, undoubtedly above what remained of Jakku. Something dark covered the world and Rey decided then she would survive. And now survival meant staying as far away from the First Order as she could. There were still smaller realms in the far corners of the world she could escape to. The First Order could have Jakku, there was nothing left to fight for.

From then on, Rey would fight for herself and the ones she chose. Rey was free and she’d never fight for a ruler or a realm again.  
Kylo stood, not taking his eyes off the darkness he knew Rey sailed through. He allowed himself a small smile, pretending to be her for a moment, free to go where she wanted to. The memories of who he’d been flooded him but the person he’d become pushed them back down. It would only be a matter of time before the First Order would find Rey again. For now, Rey was free and Kylo would live through her

Kylo Ren felt like a ghost who’d been surviving for far too long.


End file.
